


Gotta Catch 'Em All

by riptheh



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Pokemon GO - Freeform, cute aliens, what if pokemon go actually worked like this hehe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:29:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21895927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riptheh/pseuds/riptheh
Summary: The Doctor plays Pokemon Go wrong.Or maybe the Doctor plays Pokemon Go far too right.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 71





	Gotta Catch 'Em All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [13stardisfam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/13stardisfam/gifts).



> Emily!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
> 
> Sorry this is so haphazard, it's the result of like three different ideas pulling me in three different directions BUT listen you deserve all of them for your birthday. seriously b love you and thank you for giving me the excuse to write something cute and fluffy, you deserve this 1000X.

Yaz never should have let Ryan watch the Doctor.

‘Watch’ was a strong word, and implied a sense of babysitting that was entirely absent. In reality, Yaz had begged Ryan to keep an eye on the Doctor for precisely one minute, while she made up an excuse to her mum about going off with her new mates. Her mum had been entirely understanding, and entirely ignorant of Yaz’s plan, which involved sending Ryan off with a faked cold and snagging the Doctor into a two person date. Ryan had been far too enthusiastic about the whole thing.

“Like this?” he would ask with a ridiculously over-the-top cough into his elbow, which only sent Yaz’s eyes rolling, a retort already on her tongue.

“Just—talk to her for one second?” she’d begged instead. “While I get my mum off my back? Please?”

Ryan had acquiesced, to Yaz’s relief, and later, her horror.

Because Ryan, much like one might do to entertain a young cousin at a family gathering, had shown the Doctor a game on his phone.

And now they were doing...this.

“Doctor,” Yaz called as they rounded another corner. “Did you still want to go to the movie—”

“Shh!” the Doctor hissed with a vigorous backwards wave of her hand. “I found one!”

Yaz wondered briefly if the Doctor knew that the Pokemon only existed in the workings of the app itself, and wouldn’t actually respond to something so inane as chitchat. Still, feeling vaguely like a fool, she shut her mouth and made another personal dedication to murder Ryan upon sight. Next time she saw him, there would be absolutely no mercy.

“We’re getting…” the Doctor said in a loud stage-whisper. “We’re close...we just have to go around...there!”

They rounded a rubbish bin, Yaz wrinkling her nose at the smell, and stopped. And stared.

Well, Yaz stared. The Doctor was still extremely concentrated on the app, her nose nearly touching the screen of Yaz’s phone, and a deep crinkle in her brow. 

Yaz was staring. Then, slowly, she reached out to tap the Doctor’s shoulder.

“Doctor…”

“What?” The Doctor frowned, head still buried deep in concentration. “Yaz, I can’t figure out what kind of Pokemon this is supposed to be, it doesn’t look like any of the cool ones Ryan was telling me—” 

“ _ Doctor _ .” This time, Yaz’s voice squeaked. 

The Doctor looked up. Then, her eyes widened. “Oh—!”

Before them, squatting just beside a slimy-looking puddle, crouched a small...Pokemon. Or at least, it could have passed for one. It had a short, lashing tail and pawed feet carefully toeing the line between water and asphalt, and a small, catlike face, with large, frightened eyes. White, downy fur wrapped the entirety of its body, fluffy enough to swallow it whole, except that its side had been pitifully matted thanks to what Yaz assumed to be an unfortunate fall in the slimy water.

As they stared, it eyed them back with mournful eyes, its tail lashing uneasily.

“Oh…” The Doctor’s eyes were wide as she slowly lowered her phone. “Oh—you’re not—”

“Doctor—” Yaz’s voice was a high whisper. “I don’t think that’s—”

“Me neither, Yaz,” the Doctor whispered. “I think we’ve found a friend.”

“A friend,” Yaz repeated uncertainly. “Are you sure that’s a friend? Because the last cute alien we found—”

“Was different,” the Doctor finished. “No, I know this guy, Yaz. Not an alien, really. An alien pet. A Blundie, probably left behind by some careless tourists—”

“Tourists—” Yaz looked to the Doctor sharply, only to receive a  _ shush! _ in the form of a waved hand. She fell silent, but tucked her question away for later.

Well, that and her hopes for what this date might have been. If one could even call it a date. Really, it had been schrodinger’s date; falling one way or the other, dependent on her bravery to take the next step. To tell the Doctor everything she’d been— 

“Oh no!” The Doctor stumbled, and Yaz snapped back to reality, just in time to watch the alien—Blundie?—crouch, then leap astonishingly high into the air, right over their heads. It landed, scrabbling on the plastic roof of the rubbish bin, then turned and let out a pathetic sound. Immediately, Yaz’s heart compressed, and she stepped forward without even thinking.

“Careful, Yaz!” A hand was on her shoulder, pulling her back before she could take another step. All of a sudden, the Doctor’s voice was at her ear, a low, rough whisper.

“Blundies have a strange effect, something they’ve developed through millenia of evolution and domestication, thanks to their few natural defenses. One sound of their voice can send anybody in the vicinity falling over themselves to help the critter out. It’s weirdly strong on humans, but Time Lords aren’t very affected.”

Yaz stared at her, then glanced to the Blundie. Even now, her heartstrings tugged for it. “But isn’t that a good thing? Maybe it’ll let me help.”

“And then you’ll never want to give it up,” the Doctor said grimly, her hand still tight upon her shoulder. “Better let me handle it.”

She stepped forward, hand trailing from Yaz’s shoulder, who immediately missed the weight, only to stop mid-step as the Blundie crouched defensively, baring teeth. 

“Doctor, I don’t think it likes you,” Yaz called helpfully, to which the Doctor only shooed her with a hand.

“It will,” she growled, and took another step forward, to which the Blundie only reared back, hissing. All of a sudden, it didn’t seem so cute. Only...angry. “I’m great with pets, Yaz. And animals in general. Best friends, me. Constantly.”

“Really.” When the Doctor didn’t answer, Yaz took a step forward as well, following right at her shoulder. The Blundie cringed back, eying them with those large, frightened eyes. Then, it let out another sad mew.

All of a sudden Yaz was pushing past the Doctor, only for her to reach out to snag her jacket hem.

“Careful, Yaz!” she whispered. Yaz cast her a glare as the Doctor swiftly passed her, arms out in what might have been a welcoming manner, if the Blundie didn’t appear so unaccommodating. “I’ll handle this one. We’ll give it a name and everything. Steve, maybe. What do you think of Steve?”

“Steve—” Something suspicious sparked in the back of Yaz’s mind, but she didn’t have time to pursue it, because the Doctor was already moving forward, stepping uncomfortably close to the Blundie. Or Steve, as it might very well be called. Yaz frowned, then quickly followed. “Doctor, isn’t it bad form to name it if you don’t want to—”

“Shh!” the Doctor called again, and Yaz fell silent, seething. All of a sudden, she wasn’t feeling very wound around the Doctor at all. Rather, her stomach burned with an ember of protectiveness, directed entirely at the Blundie, still crouched upon the rubbish bin. 

“Doctor,” she hissed. “I think you should let me—”

“No,” the Doctor snapped back. “I want—”

Yaz turned so fast she got whiplash. “You  _ want _ —”

But the Doctor wasn’t even listening. Rather, she was stepping forward once more, now within arms’ reach of the Blundie, who only reared back, face screwed up in distrust, though the Doctor didn’t seem to feel it.

“C’mon—” She said it softly, like a mother soothing a frightened child—or indeed, a person soothing a frightened animal. “I’ll help you down—”

The suspicion which had sat so heavily in the back of Yaz’s mind grew. Suddenly, she had a very strong feeling that the Doctor was off about one thing.

“Doctor,” she called carefully, “Are you sure that Time Lords aren’t affected—”

But it was too late. The Doctor’s hand, reaching out, brushed against the Blundie’s fur, which startled like a cat. It jumped straight up, then crouched and leapt, sailing over the Doctor, and landing with a thump on—

Yaz’s shoulder. She barely had time to register the weight, or indeed, revel in the faint surge of vindication that accompanied the movement before the Doctor spun around, shock and hurt upon her face.

“Oi!” She crossed her arms, the picture of a petulant child. “I was being nice!”

“Yeah, but—” Yaz wasn’t sure what to say. “I dunno. Maybe it just doesn’t like you?”

The Doctor gaped. Her eyes flew to the Blundie, and the hurt in her expression deepened.

“Steve!”

Despite herself, Yaz giggled. In response, the Blundie mewed, right in her ear, and she felt a flush if affection. “Doctor, maybe its name isn’t Steve. It might be...I dunno. Something else. Janice.”

“ _ Janice? _ ” The Doctor’s eyes widened, appalled. “No way. Steve is not a Janice!”

But at the word Janice, a strange, comfortable rumble emanated from the Blundie, and it settled low on Yaz’s shoulder, the picture of contentment. It smelled slightly of rubbish, but Yaz found she didn’t particularly mind. After all, it was no wonder—the poor thing must have been out on the streets for who knew how long.

“I think she’s a Janice,” she decided, and reached up without thinking to touch Janice’s face. Janice found her fingers and rubbed her cheek against them, much like a cat. 

An outer space cat. The thought made Yaz giggle, to which the Doctor’s scowl only deepened.

“Alright,” she grumbled, arms still crossed. “But we still have to find out how to get...Janice back to her owners. They’re bound to be looking for her.”

A small part of Yaz wanted to protest this, but she quashed it and nodded instead.

“Right. And....how do we do that?”

For a moment, the Doctor appeared at a loss. Then, she brightened.

“Well, we have a TARDIS, don’t we?”

—————-

The Bundie settled in comfortably to the TARDIS, which in turn seemed to attune itself comfortably to the Bundie. It also, after a while, deigned to climb down from Yaz’s shoulder, and into her arms.

And maybe it was foolish—quite possibly it was payback for missing the movie—but Yaz couldn’t help but feel a faint spark of triumph at the jealous look on the Doctor’s face. Who cares if it was directed at the Bundie? Yaz would take what she could get.

Some part of her knew she was being vindictive. Another part couldn’t be sure if it was the strange effect the Bundie had on her or not. Yet another part had a feeling it wasn’t entirely. There was something there related to the missed movie, and Yaz’s missed chance. Because who knew when she would get the courage to talk to the Doctor again? Certainly not tonight, Bundie in her hand or no.

As if on cue, the Bundie made that same mewling sound, and the Doctor’s scowl darkened.

“She would like me if she got to know me,” she grumbled, to which Yaz only shrugged. Somewhere in between finding the Bundie and bringing her back to the TARDIS, they had decided it was a she. No reason why. The Doctor claimed that she knew how to check, but the Bundie also wouldn’t let her get close enough to try.

“Shh, Janice,” she soothed, and rubbed a reassuring hand over downy fur. She really  _ was _ cute. It would almost be a shame to part with her.

“When did you say her owners would be here?”

The Doctor made a show of checking her watch, though Yaz had seen her check it not two seconds prior. “Five minutes. They were beaming distress signals all across the galaxy. Must really miss their pet.”

“You mean Janice,” Yaz said. The Doctor’s scowl deepened.

“ _ Yes _ , Janice,” she muttered, and shifted her feet, then leaned back against a pillar and crossed her arms. Her eyes swept over Janice, cuddled in Yaz’s arms, and her mouth twisted petulantly.

“You know, I am good with animals,” she said after a moment’s silence. “Even if—”

A hiss from Janice cut her off, and she fell woefully silent. Yaz, for her part, suppressed a giggle. 

“I believe you, Doctor,” she said, even if Janice didn’t seem to agree.

“Good. Because—”

A knock on the door sent them both startling. Yaz straightened, leaned up as she was against the console, and turned towards the door, arms tightening around Janice as she craned excitedly over her hands.

“Do you think that’s—?”

“Must be!” The Doctor nearly tripped over her own two feet in her excitement to get the door, forcing Yaz to swallow yet another giggle. Somehow, despite Janice’s comforting presence, she wasn’t all too upset about seeing her leave. If only because she was tired of being the target of the Doctor’s jealousy.

_ Stronger effect on humans _ . Internally, she scoffed. 

The Doctor wrenched the door open to reveal a nervous looking humanoid figure, slightly taller than the average man, with a bald, spiked scalp, and remarkably purple skin. Six fingered hands churned together anxiously, and his eyes darted first to the Doctor, then to Yaz. When he caught sight of Janice, he sagged in clear relief.

“Oh, thank Ghis!” he cried, and stepped fully into the TARDIS without waiting for permission. “You found her!”

A smug smile bloomed across the Doctor’s face. “See, Yaz? Told you I—”

“Can it, Doctor,” Yaz said politely. She herself dredged up a genuine smile, despite the pang in her heart at letting Janice go. “Hi, I’m assuming she’s yours?”

“Oh, yes!” The man took another step forward and made a strange whistling sound. “Come here, Jan-ees!”

The Bundie perked, then leapt with no warning from Yaz’s arms, bounding towards the man, who scooped her up with a joyful cry, as Yaz and the Doctor gaped.

“Jan…” the Doctor trailed off.

“Jan-ees,” Yaz finished. “Her name is Janice?”

The man eyed them as he hugged the Bundie, who rubbed enthusiastically against his chin. “Well, you say it oddly. But yes, this is Jan-ees. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you found her.”

“Oh.” Another inappropriate laugh rose up in Yaz’s throat, which she squashed ruthlessly. Nearby, the Doctor shuffled her feet, a mutinous look on her face. The words ‘still looks like a Steve’ floated through the air, and she hurried to cover them. “Of course! We’re happy to help.”

“Yeah. Anytime.” The Doctor looked distinctly unhappy at letting her go, but she wasn’t fighting it, to which Yaz could only be thankful. “Glad to help...Jan-ees.”

The man dipped his head, relief still etched over his face. “Well, I’m just glad she could help you as well.”

Yaz frowned in confusion, as did the Doctor. “Help us? What do you mean?”

The man’s eyes darted between them uncertainly. “Well, Jan-ees is a specially bred Bundie. She senses anxiety, and helps to calm people. Usually she sticks with me, but if she’s lost, or out, she’ll go to the most nervous person and stick to them.”

“Nervous…” The Doctor trailed off, frowning. Deep inside her chest, Yaz’s heart picked up speed.

“Well, that’s odd,” she said loudly. “Seeing as neither of us are nervous.”

“Really?” The man appeared baffled. “But she was sitting right in your—”

“Doctor, don’t we have a movie to get to?” Yaz said through gritted teeth. The Doctor’s head jerked up, and she cast a puzzled expression from Yaz to the man, before finally catching on.

“What—oh! Right!” Quickly, she spun towards the man and began to usher him out the door. “Glad you picked up Ste—er, Janice. But we’ve got lots of things to do and I’m sure you’ve got a whole planet to see, so—bye!”

“Okay, but—” The man didn’t get to finish before he was abruptly, and quite rudely, pushed out the door, which slammed shut behind him, leaving only his final ‘thanks!’ to float through the wood. The Doctor didn’t appear to hear this, however. Rather, she flicked the lock shut, then turned on her heel to face Yaz.

Yaz wasn’t looking at her. Her face was too red to do so. Rather, she had decided to examine the controls with great interest, even though she had seen them about a million times. She didn’t look up, didn’t even glance, even as she heard the soft footsteps of the Doctor up the steps.

“Yaz.”

No answer. Yaz continued to examine the controls.

“Yaz?”

“Hmm?” She was right behind her now, Yaz could practically feel it. If she looked up, she would probably see the Doctor rocking back on her heels, lips cut in a nervous line, an anxious swallow caught in her throat.

“I—” Clearly, the Doctor didn’t know how to phrase it. She stumbled over herself, then audibly swallowed. “That man said Janice goes to those who are nervous. And I wasn’t nervous.”

She paused, and Yaz let her. The controls, she was realizing, were incredibly interesting. Remarkable, really.

“Were you nervous about something?”

There it was. Out in the open. Briefly, she wondered how possible it might be to slide that particular question under the rug, then decided it wasn’t. So she looked up.

The Doctor was closer than she’d anticipated—not a foot away, close enough to see all the freckles smattered across her cheeks. Her hazel eyes danced nervously, and her hands wrung anxiously, as if she wasn’t sure what to say.

Yaz wasn’t sure either. But then, she had to say  _ something _ .

“Oh, you know.” Her voice was too high. How could her voice get so high? “Just regular nerves, I guess. The usual.”

“Right. The usual.” The Doctor nodded, though it was clear she had no idea what Yaz was talking about. Then something alit in her eyes, the kind of horror that made Yaz’s heart sink. “Wait. Do  _ I _ make you nervous?”

“You?” Yaz squeaked, then cursed herself. “No! What? No!”

It wasn’t working. Quickly, she took a deep breath to calm. “I mean, not  _ you _ , specifically. You’re great. It’s more like—it’s more like—”

She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t. But the Doctor wasn’t catching on. She was standing there, completely at a loss, wide-eyed and anxious.

She had to say it.

“MorelikeIjustreallylikeyou.”

Too fast, but the Doctor seemed to have caught on. Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward. “You what?”

“ _ More like I really like you _ ,” Yaz whispered, and wondered just how possible it might be for the TARDIS to make her disappear like one of her everchanging rooms. Probably entirely possible, and equally as unlikely.

The Doctor’s eyes went round as saucers. Her whole body went stock still. For a moment, Yaz couldn’t tell if she was breathing.

“You—you—” She was choking on the words. “You like—me?”

Yaz couldn’t figure out if this was a good or bad response. Quickly, and flushing, she nodded.

“I—I—” Whatever reaction the Doctor seemed to be going through, she was really going through it. Yaz watched as she went from pale white, to pink, to bright, blushing red.

“Doctor?” Yaz asked after a long, terrible moment. “It’s okay if you don’t like me back. I mean, it really is. I just—oh!”

She was cut off by the Doctor’s abrupt and unexpected hands on the lapels of her jacket, pulling her into such a sudden kiss that she barely had time to gather air. Not that she minded. In fact, she was too surprised to mind anything, so surprised that for a moment she only stood there, utterly frozen.

Then, just as quickly, she melted. Hands reached up to cup the Doctor’s face, and she fell into a kiss as unexpectedly lovely as any she had ever had.

It was a long time before they parted for air, both panting slightly. When they did, Yaz could only look up at the Doctor, dazed, just to watch a crooked, embarrassed grin spread across her face.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know how to say it.”

“Didn’t…” Yaz trailed off in disbelief. Then, she shook her head. “Oh, you are an idiot.”

“I am not—”

But this time, she didn’t get to finish. Yaz made sure of that.

**Author's Note:**

> Why did the Bundie get picked up by the app? Because it's funny. That's why. Who am I, the queen of explanations?


End file.
